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“Yep? How exciting is this?” Belle gushed, smiling excitedly toward her big sister.
My girl’s eyes darted from me to her dad, then to Roslin and back to me. “Feck me. You’re all serious!” she cried out. “Where is it?”
“Is that yes?” I asked, praying I hadn’t overshot the mark and read how I thought she’d react wrongly.
“Do I have a choice?” she asked, still clearly stunned.
Cradling her head, I pulled her to my chest. “Maybe we need a few minutes?” I said. Her parents followed Belle out of the living room door. I crooked a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to see me.
“Is this too much?”
“Yes … no, I mean it’s an ultra-romantic gesture. How can we do this? We’ve no license to get married,” she wondered.
“Baby, everything’s taken care of. Father Mathews, the priest that christened you, is waiting at the chapel for us. I got in touch with the city’s registrar and arranged a special license. All you need to do is sign it and he can marry us. But—I can see how stunned you are by all of this and now I realize how controlling it might look.”
“You’re not controlling at all. This shows me how much you love me, that you can’t wait another minute for me to be your wife,” she replied, as her serious eyes searched my face.
“Then what’s the problem?” I asked, frowning.
“I think I just need a minute to soak it all in, Jamie. If I’m honest, I’m completely blown away that you would take care of all this for me. I’m just trying to absorb that a few days ago we got engaged on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Don’t forget the Italian Stallion that hit on you or drunk Paddy and Bernie,” I added to make light of the shock of it all for her.
“That romantic cabin and all that happened there too,” she agreed. “Then there’s what you did, not even an hour ago. We’re getting married and we own a gorgeous five-bedroom house in one of the poshest parts of Dublin.”
“So, at the risk of sounding pushy. Are you agreeing to marry me today?”
“Of course, I will. But Jamie, I don’t have a dress or anything—”
“Yes, you do,” Belle shouted from the other side of the door. “Everyone’s waiting in Ma’s bedroom to doll you up and make you look presentable.”
“Are you all listening on the other side of the door?” Daisy asked, sounding annoyed.
“I wasn’t listening,” Dermot called out. “I was only here in case you gave your mother a heart attack by saying no. She’s been planning this shindig for weeks.”
Daisy started laughing and nodding as tears filled her eyes. “Don’t you dare cry. Someone’s bound to take a picture of us going into the chapel and it’ll be plastered all over social media,” I teased, and she laughed.
“Then I better go and see what they have planned for me. But I’m telling you now, if it’s one of those big poofy dresses, I’ll be getting married in jeans.”
CHAPTER 26
Our formal Irish wedding ceremony was as traditional as I had expected it would be … apart from when my girl made the priest change the word obey in the vows to cherish. It was then that I knew for sure Daisy was fully invested because despite me springing the wedding on her, she had still had the presence of mind to voice her personal slant on her promise to me. As for me, I’d been so sure about our future that I’d been talking to my own childhood priest via zoom as I’d planned the wedding.
Daisy looked a vision as we attended the full, high Catholic mass, dressed in a feminine, sheer Boho-style, chiffon and silk, ivory dress. The head band on her veil was a delicate hair band of daisies, blue forget-me-nots, and were the perfect accompaniment for my blonde-haired girl.
Poppy, Belle and Roslin had come up trumps when it came to knowing Daisy’s taste in bridal wear. My girl had mildly freaked out when she saw Poppy was present for the wedding party and not at the pub like she’d said she was. But she was reassured by the fact that a childhood school friend and wedding planner, Lorraine Masters, had everything under control.
I’d given Roslin the wedding rings I’d chosen for safe keeping beforehand and these had been passed on when the time came to my nephews, Ryan and Nick, who stood as my best men. Poppy and Belle were naturally Daisy’s bridesmaids.
My sister, Catrina, bawled her eyes out for most of the ceremony, and at one point Dermot, like a true gentleman, came to her rescue when he offered her his handkerchief. I had to smile at the face he pulled when she tried to give it back, and I figured that Nick had seen this as well when the loud “Eww,” echoed throughout the otherwise silent, vaulted ceiling of the chapel.
“Jesus,” Ryan muttered to Nick, and Roslin shot him a glare—trust Ryan to use blasphemy inside the house of God.
With no further mishaps and the ceremony at a close, Father Mathews said, “You may now kiss your bride.” My bandmates went wild, cheering loudly from the back row of the chapel. Daisy’s two old aunties and Dermot’s uncle looked petrified when they glanced back and saw the three scraggy rock stars and their partners all waving at us from their seats.
Cradling Daisy’s head, I looked into her eyes and whispered, “I love you, Mrs. Fontaine,” before I kissed my gorgeous new wife.
When we gathered upstairs at the pub, Daisy had to fight her natural instinct to take over the event.
